


Hospital Kisses

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [48]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hospitalization, Injury, M/M, Sam is seventeen, Weecest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4107535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean hates seeing Sam in the hospital.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hospital Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone--
> 
> Here's another fic I'm moving from Tumblr.  
> Warnings: weecest (Sam is seventeen), injury/hospitalization.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Dean signs himself out as soon as the nurses are done. They argue with him, but they can’t do anything. He’s twenty-one. He’s an adult. They can’t stop him.

Besides, it’s just bruised ribs. He’s had worse and walked that off just fine.

Sam’s already been admitted. Dean knows that there’s absolutely no chance of Sam getting out of here tonight, maybe not tomorrow night, either.

Sam has a chest tube. He’s pale and small and only hours ago Sam was the biggest badass in the world, crouched over and barely breathing while he torched that ghost that was using Dean as a punching bag, that was madder than any ghost they’d ever faced. He’s still a badass, it’s just a brutal reminder that Sam is so…fragile. Breakeable. That any day, any day at all, given what they do, he could lose Sam.

Dean swallows a lump and tries not to think about it.

Sam’s eyes are closed, but Dean knows better than to think he’s sleeping.

“Hey,” he says quietly as Dean gets closer.

“Should you be talking?” Dean asks, falling into the chair beside the bed and pulling it even closer.

Sam makes an aborted shrugging gesture.

“Don’t talk, then,” Dean advises. “Don’t need to say anything right now.”

He reaches for Sam’s hand and squeezes it gently. Sam squeezes back.

“Hurt much?” Dean asks.

Sam shakes his head no. Dean knows he’s lying, but doesn’t call him on it. Instead, he reaches up to stroke Sam’s still-sweat-matted hair.

“Think someone could wash your damn hair,” Dean grumbles. 

Sam squeezes his hand again. “Yeah, yeah, I know you’re fine,” Dean says. “I’m just saying. With what we have for health insurance…or what they think we have, anyways…they could clean you up a bit, huh?”

He keeps stroking, regardless of the proclaimed mess, and the lines on Sam’s forehead relax a bit.

“You should sleep,” Dean suggests quietly. “Gonna be here for a while, not like I’m very entertaining with my busted ribs right now. Might as well sleep through it. Besides, sleep is good for healing and shit. Might fix your lung faster.”

Sam rolls his eyes but he also smiles a little bit.  _Okay_  he mouthes. Then, hesitant,  _I love you_.

Dean smiles. “I love you too, Sammy, and hey, not going anywhere, okay? They can’t kick me out, gonna be here the whole time, while you’re sleeping, when you wake up.”

_Good._

Dean looks around, taking care to check for incoming nurses or doctors, making sure they’re completely alone before leaning down–his ribs protesting, but he could care less right then–and giving Sam a quick kiss, warm and solid and as reassuring as he can make it.

He looks around again once he sits up. The last thing they need is questions about why Sam Winchester’s supposed legal guardian has a bit more than a brotherly relationship going with his ward. But no one is there, it’s just them, safe, alive, and together.

Sam squeezes Dean’s hand once more before closing his eyes again to get some sleep.


End file.
